Harry Potter and the Simulacrum Seal

Chapter Ten: Percy's Blame

It took Harry a while to convince the pair of Healers that he was all right. The difficult bit was that they wanted to know exactly what Harry had experienced in the mindscape Voldemort had planted within Mr Weasley, and there was no power on earth that could convince Harry to divulge those details to anyone but Ron and Hermione. The Healers realized Harry was holding back on them and kept pressing for details; once Harry admitted vaguely, after much cajoling, that he had been the victim of a Legilimency attack, they had rushed off to summon the Healer-in-Charge of Gray Matter Damage, who turned out to be Healer Sina, the same man Harry had met in the Janus Thickey ward when he and the Weasleys had first gone to see Mr Weasley.

Healer Sina didn't push like the other Healers had, but his gentle, soothing approach only annoyed Harry more; he was fine, after all, and he didn't want to be coddled any more than he wanted to be interrogated.

One of his questions did catch Harry off-guard. 'Was there any point in time during which you would say you were not in possession of your sanity?' the Healer queried, his quill poised expectantly over a sheet of parchment floating in the air.

Harry froze. Hermione opened her mouth, but a commanding look from Harry kept her from making a sound. The Healer, however, took all this as positive confirmation. 'It's nothing to be ashamed of,' the Healer assured him calmly, rhythmically scratching notes. Then, as he stood, he concluded, 'However, I would like to keep you overnight for observation to ensure that there are no lasting effects.'

'Of course Harry will stay overnight,' replied Mrs Weasley with less spirit and determination than Harry had ever heard from her. The sentiment was the same, though, and Harry wasn't about to get into an argument with Mrs Weasley on what was likely the worst day of her life. Her eyes were puffy and red, her shoulders slouched, and Harry knew there was nothing he could do to make things right for her or the rest of the Weasleys.

The Healer left after instructing that Harry was not to leave his bed, but that visitors were quite welcome until lights-out, which wouldn't be for some time. Harry could hardly believe it was only mid-afternoon after all that had happened. He needed to talk to Ron and Hermione about what had happened with Voldemort - how he had lost any possible advantage they had possessed by revealing the Prophecy, not to mention that Voldemort probably realized Harry's intention to destroy the Horcruxes - but he certainly couldn't do so with Mrs Weasley in the room. And Ron probably doesn't really want to talk right now, Harry thought.

Hermione, with a desperate, sad expression, exclaimed, 'Oh, Harry! We haven't told you what we found out about the attack at the Ministry while you were unconscious!'

Mrs Weasley stood. 'I think I'll go tend to Arthur now ... I should keep Tonks company, as well.' She walked slowly out of the room, defeat and despair in her every movement.

Hermione bit her lip and frowned as Mrs Weasley left. 'I hope I didn't drive her away.'

Ron pushed off the wall where he'd been so glumly standing and moved to sit in the chair Mrs Weasley had occupied. 'It's okay, Hermione.' He looked up at Harry. 'We need to tell you everything.'

Moving to stand next to Ron and laying her hand on his shoulder, Hermione began softly, 'Apparently Voldemort was up to a great deal at the Ministry. There was a corpse found on the fifth floor in International Magical Trading Standards Body offices - we haven't heard yet what that's about, I don't think anyone knows at all - and there was some sort of explosion set off in the Auror Office.'

She continued reluctantly, 'They ... they mentioned ... I heard someone say there were eight Aurors killed. Tonks told us that the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad - Arviragus Dearborn, I think she said - came in, and no one thought anything was wrong, of course, but then he took something out of his pocket and opened it, and then he cast a simple spell on it, and the entire place just ... it was just gone in an instant. Arviragus Dearborn must have been under the Imperius Curse, at least that's what everyone thinks, not that they can check now since he's dead.'

'Kingsley was found dead in a bathroom,' Ron added numbly.

'You mentioned Tonks before,' said Harry, dreading the worst. 'Is she all right?' Ron had said Ginny was with her, but what if she was only with her body?

Ron and Hermione gave each other a look. 'She ... she's the only one who survived, out of all the Aurors who were there at the time,' replied Hermione. 'If it weren't for the fact that she was at the door when it happened, she'd have died, too. She was thrown into the hallway and was pretty badly burned, but she's recovering quickly. A Healer said she'd be let out tomorrow. Ginny and Remus are with her now.'

'I want to go see her.'

'You're supposed to stay in bed!' Ron objected, shooting Harry a fierce glare.

Harry was startled. 'Okay, Ron,' he said soothingly.

Ron looked away, abashed. 'Sorry, I ... I'm not myself right now.'

'No one expects you to be,' Hermione assured him. 'Besides, you're right: Harry has to stay in bed.' She raised her eyebrows at Harry, looking as stern as Professor McGonagall. 'Now, what about your experience, Harry? What did you and Voldemort discuss? What did he learn with Legilimency?'

Harry told them everything without reserve. Ron's eyes shone when Harry told them about how he'd tried to attack Voldemort physically, and the corners of his mouth twitched; Harry was glad to see that Ron could still smile. Hermione was surprised to hear about mindscapes, and looked embarrassed that she hadn't blurted out something about it before; she hadn't yet read the book in which Harry had noticed the subject since she and Ron had been busy looking for R.A.B. But she also beamed with pride when Harry told them about how he had seen through Voldemort's odd ploy to get him to cast the Killing Curse. They were both horrified that Voldemort now knew about the Prophecy, but as Hermione said, 'There's nothing to be done about it now, so we'll have to live with it. Don't upset yourself, Harry; Voldemort is an excellent Legilimens, so there's no shame in having lost.'

But Harry did feel ashamed. He realized that he couldn't have tried any harder to keep the Prophecy hidden, but he could have tried a great deal harder when he was learning Occlumency in his fifth year. On the other hand, Snape had been teaching him - the thought of Snape made Harry's lip curl in disgust, and Hermione and Ron gave him an odd look - so he probably hadn't been taught properly in the first place.

'I don't understand why Voldemort didn't come to kill me today,' said Harry when his explanation was over. 'Why did he go to the Ministry instead?'

'Let's just count our blessings,' replied Hermione smoothly.

'But it doesn't make sense!' Harry protested. 'He never did say why he didn't come to kill me today, but he obviously thought he could, so why not do it?'

'I think you were right,' said Ron decisively, crossing his arms. 'I think he's a coward. He may say he thinks he can kill you, but we all know how that's worked out for him before. It sounds to me like he's too scared to take you on.'

'We just don't know for sure,' Hermione concluded. 'Ron has a point, but we can't say that's the entire reason Voldemort didn't try to harm you. What did you say he said at the end? Something about a key?'

Harry admitted that he hardly remembered. 'I wasn't exactly well at the time.' He and Hermione looked at anyone but each other, and Ron appeared confused. Ron seemed to be preparing to ask what they were acting so oddly about, but at that moment the door to the room was loudly thrown open.

Walking toward Harry with a remarkably fast limp was a haggard, red-faced, utterly furious Rufus Scrimgeour. 'Out, both of you!' Scrimgeour roared at Ron and Hermione. Hermione, startled, moved back a little to let him through, but Ron merely lifted his chin and glared at Scrimgeour coldly.

'What do you want?' asked Ron before Harry could voice the same query.

'I said out!'

Ron didn't budge an inch. 'I don't give a damn what you said. What do you want?'

In a calmer voice, Scrimgeour said, 'You will leave voluntarily or you will be made to leave.'

'Just go, Ron,' said Harry tiredly. He held up a hand to quell any objections. 'It's fine. I can handle it.'

Ron pressed his lips together grimly; without another word, he took Harry's wand from the table next to his bed, pressed it insistently into Harry's hand, and walked away, giving Scrimgeour a dirty look as he left and intentionally bumping shoulders with him. Hermione glanced after Ron worriedly and followed him out.

Harry sighed. 'Okay, Scrimgeour, what -'

'Shut your mouth,' interrupted Scrimgeour, moving to stand over Harry's bedside. Harry moved up to a straighter sitting position while Scrimgeour, his hands balled into fists, continued, 'I want to know what you discussed with You-Know-Who. What terms did he give you?'

Harry blinked. 'Terms?'

'What did he offer you, boy?' growled Scrimgeour.

He glared in reply. 'Voldemort didn't offer me anything. He wants me dead. Not much room for negotiation there, you know.'

Scrimgeour's face twisted into a sinister sneer. 'So he only went to all this trouble to contact you peacefully in order to discuss the weather, did he?'

'I don't see your point,' replied Harry blandly. As if he would tell Scrimgeour about the Prophecy and the Horcruxes. 'I have no idea why Voldemort does anything. You'll have to go bother him about it.'

Scrimgeour looked like he might pummel Harry at any moment. 'What did you talk about, then?'

'That's none of your business.'

Scrimgeour's large hands grabbed Harry violently by the collar of his robes, dragging him nearly nose to nose with the Minister. 'Listen, you spoilt, selfish little twit,' he growled. Slowly, and with dangerous quietness, he continued, 'We lost over a third of our Auror forces today in one fell swoop. Once the death toll gets out, people will panic. I'm not going to play games with you anymore. You will tell me everything or you will be sent to Azkaban to rot there until you're feeling more cooperative.'

'Yeah, that'd be brilliant,' Harry breathed, 'go ahead and lock up the supposed Chosen One. That'll stop people from panicking.'

The Minister smiled widely, showing his canines. 'Maybe a dose of Veritaserum would be sufficient. I happen to carry some on hand for situations just like these.'

'Minister!' Healer Sina called forcefully from the doorway. The Minister continued to hold on to Harry, glaring murderously at him, until the Healer pried his hands off. 'I cannot allow you to manhandle my patient!'

'This is Ministry business, Healer,' scoffed Scrimgeour. 'Stand aside.'

'What you do with this young man after he checks out tomorrow morning is not my concern,' retorted the Healer, 'but until then, he is under my care, and while your word may be law outside this hospital, Minister, my word is law within it!' The Healer glanced down at Scrimgeour's hand, which was holding a vial of Veritaserum halfway out of his pocket. 'And that is absolutely the last thing he needs!' Healer Sina added angrily. 'Imagine, inflicting Veritaserum on someone who has just suffered a severe Legilimency attack! The world must be going mad! I insist that you leave at once!'

Scrimgeour slid the Veritaserum back into his pocket and turned again to Harry. 'This isn't over, Potter. I'll see you tomorrow. There will be guards posted at the door of this room to make sure you don't leave before I talk to you.'

Harry glared at Scrimgeour's back as he left, slamming the door in his wake. After the Healer followed him out, Harry collapsed back in bed, his head aching. There was no way Harry would stay long enough for Scrimgeour to sink his claws into him again, and it took only a few moments to come up with an obvious escape plan.

'What an arse,' Harry said to Ron and Hermione as they entered shortly after the Healer left.

Hermione looked anxious. 'He's got guards posted outside! You can't possibly tell him about what happened!'

'Of course not,' replied Harry. 'Just ... er ...' His eyes darted around the room, and he beckoned Hermione closer with his finger. Perplexed, Hermione walked up to Harry's bedside and lowered her head. Harry whispered his plan in her ear; he had a feeling that Scrimgeour would have told the guards to listen in on their conversation to ensure that Harry wasn't plotting his escape. Her eyes widened in comprehension and she nodded.

'Hey!' Ron protested, but before he could say more Hermione rushed over to him and whispered to him what Harry had said. 'Oh. That makes sense.'

Ron and Hermione kept him company intermittently for the rest of the afternoon; Hermione spent a great deal more time with Ginny than with Harry, which Harry didn't begrudge her in the least, while Ron left occasionally to talk to his mum or his siblings. Harry didn't really know what to say to Ron; what had happened to Mr Weasley was, in Harry's opinion, worse than death, although he would never think of saying as much to his suffering best friend. Ron seemed to want to talk about impersonal details of the attack at the Ministry, and then about more inconsequential things once that topic had been run into the ground, and Harry wouldn't have pushed Ron into talking about it even if he had possessed the slightest idea as to what to say. Hermione tried to get Ron to open up a few times but was brushed off, and Harry couldn't help but think that girls were just too talkative about their feelings to understand when not to talk about them.

Ginny visited Harry once as well, when Ron was off elsewhere and Hermione was with Mrs Weasley. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and there was something about her that seemed more diminutive than usual, as if she had been shrunken by sorrow. Harry, despite a growing migraine and some dizziness, had determinedly extracted himself from his hospital bed and walked over to her. Once he was in front of her, however, he felt just as clueless as he had with Ron. Should I hug her? Harry wondered. She had probably been hugged by a dozen different people by that point; what difference would one more hug make? But then she did the work for him and put her arms around him, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. Harry just held her for a while; no words were exchanged between them before she left aside from Ginny asking if he was okay and Harry nodding in reply. He thought it would be rather stupid to ask if she was okay.

Harry was exhausted by the time Remus tore himself away from Tonks' bedside to see him. It was only a few minutes before the end of visiting hours; the combination of lack of sleep and his terrible, gruelling birthday had left Harry almost glad that he was to be alone soon. He must have looked as tired as he felt if the shifting look on Remus' face, from friendly to concerned, was any indication.

'The Healer did say you would be fine, I hope?'

Harry smiled weakly, his eyes drooping. 'Yeah. How's Tonks?'

'Don't worry about her. She's a tough woman. Rest up as much as you can tonight. Tomorrow will be hectic.' Leaning closer, Remus said in a whisper, 'Ron and Hermione told me about your plan to escape tomorrow. I'll see you soon after. If it doesn't work, we'll find some way to free you from the Ministry's control, so don't worry.'

Don't worry became the general theme of their discussion before long, and Harry appreciated the sentiment, although he was too exhausted to muster the strength to worry anyway. Remus was just saying his goodbyes after having been prodded about the end of visiting hours by a mediwitch when the door was thrown open yet again. Harry dreaded another visit by Scrimgeour, but as it happened, the intruder was someone completely unexpected.

It was Percy. He looked in many ways similar to how Scrimgeour had when he had accosted Harry earlier in the day, but where Scrimgeour had bellowed, Percy's rage was of a quieter variety. 'I'd like to speak with Harry privately,' he said in a clipped tone.

'Visiting hours are over,' Remus replied, standing up. 'I was just leaving.'

Percy didn't reply, but rather waited for Remus to get to the door. Remus, however, simply stood by his chair, apparently waiting for Percy to leave. 'You said you were leaving,' said Percy coldly after a few moments.

'I am, but I'm certainly not leaving you alone with Harry.'

Percy's face took on a vicious look. 'I'm not allowed to speak with the person responsible for my father being a vegetable?'

Remus, in a sharply raised voice, said, 'You may very well do that if you can find him, but you won't find You-Know-Who in St Mungo's!'

This triggered an explosion from Percy the likes of which Harry had never witnessed from him. 'I wasn't talking about You-Know-Who and you know it! If he -' Percy gestured rudely over to Harry. '- wasn't always associating with my family, making trouble for us, You-Know-Who would never have bothered a man like my father! He wasn't anything! Why would You-Know-Who care about Arthur Weasley if the family weren't such good friends with Harry Potter?!'

'If you think your father wasn't - isn't - anything, you're completely mistaken,' said Remus. He was calmer, as though moved to pity instead of enmity by Percy's angry ranting. 'Your father was - is - a great man. I'm sorry you can't see it. He would have given anything for the cause -'

'The cause!' Percy interrupted, full of disgust. 'And what was a low-level Ministry employee supposed to do for the cause? If you people really wanted to stop Voldemort you would be working with the Ministry instead of against it! Potter has been offered everything - protection, Auror training - but he's turned it all down because it offends his pride! My father didn't die for the cause; he died for Harry Potter's ego!'

Harry stared open-mouthed at Percy as Remus, who had begun heading Percy off before his speech was done, bodily pushed the man out the door. He had known before that Percy wasn't overly fond of him, but Harry hadn't had any idea that Percy hated him so much. Remus managed to get both himself and Percy out the door and Harry was left sitting alone in the darkening room, his previously tired mind abuzz with contemplation.

Was it all ego, as Percy had claimed? Was it really his, Harry's, fault? He couldn't work with the Ministry; Scrimgeour would try to keep Harry under his thumb, and Harry didn't have time to waste on playing political games.

More importantly, there was no job for the Ministry to do. The task of finding the Horcruxes couldn't be done by a large, plodding bureaucracy. Even one spy in the Ministry could turn the entire search upside down; Voldemort would discover that they knew where one of the Horcruxes was and would send Death Eaters to guard it or would move it before they could claim it.

No, the Ministry couldn't be of help. Harry knew he was right about that. But Percy's other charges still niggled; after all, Voldemort himself had said that Snape had recommended Mr Weasley as the best candidate to lead Harry into Voldemort's mental trap, and Snape wouldn't have done that if he hadn't known how friendly Harry was with the Weasley family. Yes, Harry had saved Mr Weasley from death when he had been attacked by the snake outside the Department of Mysteries, but that didn't excuse being the cause of an even worse fate, did it?

Harry eventually got to sleep, but his dreams were troubled.

***

At the crack of dawn the next morning, Hermione and Ron went to Harry's room to visit him, as they had planned. Hermione pulled Harry's Invisibility Cloak out of her rucksack and handed it to him. 'Right, let's get out of here,' said Harry, who had been awake and waiting for them for hours.

They waited a few minutes so that the visit wouldn't look suspicious, and then Hermione, Harry, and Ron walked to the door in a line with Harry between them. They made sure they were spaced far enough apart so that Ron wouldn't step on Harry's Invisibility Cloak and reveal him, but that they were also close enough so that it still looked like Hermione and Ron were walking together. Once they had passed the doorway and the suspicious glances of Scrimgeour's guards, they moved to walk side by side, only occasionally manoeuvring to avoid a passing Healer or mediwitch.

By the time the guards got up the nerve to check Harry a few minutes after he and his friends had left, it was too late; Harry, Ron, and Hermione heard feet scuffling and shouts coming from somewhere far off in the hospital moving their way, but only when they were already just a few feet away from the exit.

They stopped only briefly at the Burrow; it was completely unoccupied. 'We're, er, heading to Grimmauld Place, Harry,' said Ron uncomfortably. 'I guess we should have mentioned it to you yesterday, but the Order says we're all to stay there from now on, and Hermione figured you'd be upset if we told you ... all our stuff has already been moved over there ...'

'I'm not upset,' promised Harry. He realized their safety was more important than any misgivings he might have about his godfather's old house. 'We couldn't stay here anyway. This is the first place Scrimgeour will come to look for me. He'll never find us at Grimmauld Place.'

So to Grimmauld Place they went. Upon entering the house, Harry found it much as he remembered it, old Mrs Black's shrieking portrait and all. 'They still haven't gotten rid of her?' shouted Hermione over the din.

Remus rushed toward them and Harry helped him pull the curtain over the portrait shut. 'It's good to see you looking better, Harry,' said Remus with a kind smile.

'Hello, Harry,' called someone from the stairs.

Harry wasn't at all expecting to see the person greeting him. 'Luna?' he said in disbelief. Ron's eyes bugged out, and Hermione cringed; she had never gotten on well with Luna Lovegood. Before anything more could be said, Remus signalled for them all to be quiet and led them out of the hall.

Luna looked as mad as ever in her choice of dress, but her face held its usual serenity. 'I can tell you're all surprised to see me, but You-Know-Who wants us all dead, you know,' she said matter-of-factly. 'Neville is still unpacking upstairs. I hardly brought anything with me.' She looked over Harry's shoulder at Remus. 'Where is my father going to go, Professor Lupin?'

Remus was clearly startled by the question. 'I don't know, Luna. But please, stop calling me "Professor Lupin"; I'm no longer a Hogwarts professor.'

'You are on the inside,' she beamed. 'You're a very good professor, too - my very favourite.'

Remus blushed.

'Why didn't your dad come?' Harry asked.

'He has to print The Quibbler,' explained Luna. 'The necessary facilities for printing aren't here.'

'That's silly!' an angry Hermione exclaimed. 'He could be killed over that ... that silly ...' Ron nudged her and gave her a look, and Hermione fell silent.

Luna, without warmth, replied, 'It's very important to him.'

'Well,' said Lupin curtly, trying to break the tension, 'Luna is going to be staying here until term starts at whichever wizarding school she's sent to.'

'I hope I get to go to Durmstrang.' Luna's face looked dreamy again. 'The Three-Snouted Grouyak lives there. I could take a picture and send it to my father, and it would probably make the front page, unless something important about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack were sent in, of course.'

'How ... nice,' said Hermione stiffly.

Once Neville joined them, it felt to Harry like a reunion of sorts of the DA, which lifted his spirits greatly. Much as he enjoyed Ron and Hermione's company, Harry's awkwardness with Ron was now so mixed with guilt about Percy's accusations that he wasn't sure why Ron even wanted to be near him. Luna's comments served to distract Hermione from her smothering of Ron, and made Ron perk up on occasion to rein Hermione in. Neville, meanwhile, seemed to be having genuine fun despite the supposed threat to his life, and seeing enthusiasm after all the trauma of the previous day was calming to Harry. Neville's grandmother was apparently going into hiding on the continent and had agreed to leave Neville under the Order's protection in England until the start of term, noting that he ought to "be of some use" to Harry Potter while he was there. When Neville repeated this information, he looked up at Harry so hopefully, so clearly dying to be as involved as he had been when they had been in the DA together, that Harry was determined to find a way for Neville to be useful. He had no intention of bringing Neville along to find the Horcruxes, but with the Order short so many members, Harry thought that surely Neville could be of help in some other way.

It wasn't until a few hours later that Ginny trudged down the stairs to join them. She sat beside Ron and didn't say a word; when Mrs Weasley came in to offer breakfast, she stayed in the drawing room while the others went to eat, saying she wasn't hungry. Even Mrs Weasley didn't seem inclined to argue with her.

The camaraderie of the early morning was broken by watching the Weasleys come and go during breakfast and the rest of the day. It was as though they were preparing for a funeral: Bill said some Ministry officials needed to talk to her about Mr Weasley's pension provisions, and she nearly burst into tears on the spot; Charlie arrived, white as a ghost, after seeing his father in the hospital for the first time, and kept asking questions about what they were going to do that neither Bill nor Mrs Weasley could answer; Ron and Ginny spent much of the day together in dead silence, Hermione trying hopelessly to be of some help to them. Hermione eventually went off to the bathroom for a long while, and Harry heard her sobbing as he passed by. Guilt suffused him. When he happened upon an open door late in the afternoon and found Ginny crying in Luna's arms, he could take it no longer, and shut himself up in his old room at Grimmauld Place to unpack his belongings.

As soon as he walked in the door, Phineas Nigellus Black greeted him. 'Ah, Mr Potter!' he cried in bizarre delight. 'It is an honour to see you again!'

Harry frowned sceptically. 'What're you being so polite for? You can't stand me!'

Phineas looked pained for a brief moment before regaining his composure. 'What do you mean I can't stand you?' he chuckled. 'Why, I like you quite well, quite well indeed!'

'Okay,' said Harry, not convinced in the slightest, but not really caring about the painting's sudden change of heart.

As Harry proceeded to throw the contents of his trunk about the room, putting clothes in the wardrobe and setting some particular items about the room - he had the distinct, unhappy feeling that Grimmauld Place would be his permanent residence for much longer than he'd like, so he supposed he'd best make himself at home - Phineas continued to harass him eagerly. 'Really, all those other times we met, we had our differences, didn't we? But there was mutual respect, wasn't there, yes, mutual respect -'

'You don't respect me,' said Harry blandly. 'What are you after?'

'Nothing at all!' the portrait said hastily. 'Er ... well ... only -'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Just say it.'

'I was, er, rather hoping that you would, er, allow me to continue to inhabit this delightful abode of yours.' Phineas' nails dug deep into his armchair, the cost of this request to his pride made clear.

Harry stared. 'You're being nice to me because you don't want me to trash you?'

'Well, this is the only portrait I have outside of Hogwarts!'

Waving his hand, Harry said, 'Don't worry, I won't chuck you out. Dumbledore didn't want you thrown out, did he? Then again,' said Harry, deciding to let Phineas stew just a little longer, 'you aren't useful anymore, are you? After all, Hogwarts is closed this year, so you can't pass messages back and forth.'

Phineas' lips tightened, and the muscles of his neck contorted, as though he were physically forcing himself not to express his indignation.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'I'm only joking. You can stay as long as you're not too much of an arse.'

After Phineas had expressed his gratitude with as much effluence as a proud pureblood could sink to, Harry finished unpacking everything he intended to unpack and lay back on his bed, trying to block out all the noise and relax.

Then a knock sounded on the door. Harry looked up at the ceiling. 'Come in,' he said, a little rudely.

The door opened with a creak; Harry looked round when it was halfway open and saw Ron standing in the doorway, trepid. He sat up immediately; he had forgotten that this was Ron's room too. 'Come in,' Harry said.

'Um, would it be okay if I still shared this room with you? I mean, you own the place, so you don't have to ...'

'Of course!'

Ron looked relieved. 'Mrs Black's room still smells like Buckbeak,' he said as he dragged his trunk in. He set his trunk down once it was in the room, shut the door, and went to sit on his own bed, directly opposite Harry. Then he stared at the wall. 'Remus told me what Percy said to you yesterday.'

Harry, too, looked away. 'Yeah?'

'I think he only told you because he wants me to tell you that it's all rubbish, but I told him you couldn't possibly be so daft as to listen to Percy about anything.' Ron's forceful tone belied his words, however, and Harry flushed. 'After all, you know Percy is a stupid idiot, and that I've never agreed with him on anything.'

'Ron, don't,' said Harry, deeply affected. 'Today isn't about me.'

'Every day is about you,' Ron said without a trace of bitterness. 'If you get all tied up in useless guilt, how are we going to find the Horcruxes? And I ... ' Ron swallowed. 'If I get tied up in ... about my dad, I won't be able to help, so we'll both just have to stop feeling angry and guilty and stop making Hermione cry and stop moping with Ginny.'

Harry looked up, smiling sadly. 'When did you get all smart about this emotional stuff?'

Ron pursed his lips. 'I've been thinking.' He stopped, as though unsure what to say, but then continued, 'Anyway, I'm not really smart about it; I'm just pretending to be. I just figure it's what Hermione will say eventually, so I might as well beat her to it for once.' Ron stood up. 'I'm going to unpack. You should ask Remus to set a date for our training before he heads off to pick up Tonks.'

Harry nodded. As he opened the door, he looked back at Ron, who was focused on his trunk to the exclusion of everything else. He'd never felt so proud of his friend before, or so thankful. With the beginnings of contentment stirring again in his heart, Harry quietly shut the door and took the first few steps away from his bad memories.